What secrets tarry behind the walls,
where rough hewn stones enslave men's souls
and shadows haunt within the halls?
These broken battlements of shame
stood timeless deep within the glen -
a foreboding looms you cannot name,
a wretched dread you cannot ken.
For sure you know this place is cursed
with blood of innocents is stained
and ravaged time has played foul nurse
and shunned the fallen with the slain.
What dwelling place is this, pale knight?
What secrets tarry behind the walls,
where rough hewn stones enslave men's souls
and shadows dwell within the halls?
A lady fair here once did dwell
left widowed by her brother's sword,
cruel enemy with roots in hell,
and severed her from liege and lord
The castle keep was sieged by red;
the courtyard strewn with bodies torn.
Her tender babes slayed in their beds,
left dreams of waifs for her to mourn
What dwelling place is this, pale knight?
What secrets tarry behind the walls,
where rough hewn stones enslave men's souls
and shadows dwell within the halls?
Her heart, that never supped from hate
sank deeply to the bottom dross
and learned its meaning, harshest fate,
sweet darkness to assuage her loss.
She gathered nettles, bitter rue,
crushed Mistletoe with hemlock seed
those cankered herbs, a potent brew -
steeped brandywine with Bryony.
What dwelling place is this, pale knight?
What secrets tarry behind the walls,
where rough-hewn stones enslave men's souls
and shadows dwell within the halls?
She draped her bower all in rags -
worn tapestries and doublets frayed,
and dressed her agony in swags -
the fragile cloth of her dismay
And when the final thread was shorn,
she drained the poison, every mite
and pulled the drapes to blot the morn
and felt the fail of heaven's light.
And cursed be, her voice did ease
all who wander close to me
that they will know no final peace
and linger here eternally...
By Veronica Soorma :)
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